


Interlude

by Mythdefied



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alley Sex, GrimmIchi - Freeform, M/M, foeyay!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:50:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythdefied/pseuds/Mythdefied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo wasn’t sure how this happened - no, that wasn’t right. He knew exactly <i>how</i> this happened, what he didn’t know was <i>why</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

Ichigo wasn’t sure how this happened - no, that wasn’t right. He knew exactly _how_ this happened, what he didn’t know was _why_. He’d been standing there, blood mingling with sweat to stain his hair and dampen his shihakusho, breath coming in pants, adrenaline coursing through him as he held Zangetsu at the ready. Grimmjow stood only a few meters away, just as bloodied as Ichigo, just as winded, but the manic grin never left his face and excitement burned like blue fire in his eyes. Just a moment, a second’s pause in the fury of combat, a second when Ichigo licked a drop of sweat/blood from his lips, savored the coppery tang, and Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed.

In the next moment, Ichigo found himself shoved back up against the alley wall, Zangetsu yanked from his hand and discarded to fall with a clatter alongside Pantera. Grimmjow was flush up against him, his body holding Ichigo there as much as the hands gripping the front of his kimono. Ichigo had the briefest glimpse of some sort of unholy anticipation flash across Grimmjow’s face before lips smashed down on his. Taken by complete surprise, Ichigo froze, eyes wide. All he could see was a close-up blur of the blue shaded corner of one eye; all he could feel was the harsh push of Grimmjow’s mouth against his. Pushing, shoving, demanding something that Ichigo didn’t understand - until a bite to his lower lip made him gasp in surprise more than pain, and Grimmjow’s tongue thrust into his mouth.

Reacting instinctively, Ichigo finally found movement and bit down hard on Grimmjow’s tongue. He felt the sudden give of thick skin right before Grimmjow pulled back. He tasted blood that was too sharp to be his, to be human. But Grimmjow was laughing, head thrown back even as a trickle of blood made its way from the corner of his mouth.

“The _fuck_?” Ichigo shoved at him but Grimmjow didn’t move, just kept laughing. “Let go, you bastard!” Another hard shove and this time Grimmjow shut up, but the grin he gave Ichigo was bloody and so hungry Ichigo felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ichigo demanded, trying to maneuver a leg up to kick Grimmjow away from him. But Grimmjow just used the movement to push in closer, between Ichigo’s legs.

“Enough foreplay, Shinigami,” Grimmjow said, his voice low enough to make it half growl. “Let’s get to the main event.”

“Forep- _what_? The hell are you talking about?” Ichigo felt his cheeks heating.

In answer, Grimmjow pushed against him, a rough shove of his hips that left Ichigo no doubt as to what the Espada had in mind.

“Y-You’re-!” He face was burning now and there was no way he’d ever be able to actually say it. It was bad enough that he could _feel_ how hard Grimmjow was.

“Yeah;” Grimmjow pushed against him again, “so’re you.”

Ichigo’s eyes went wide, humiliation rushing through him. If any more blood rushed to his face he thought he might pass out. Then Grimmjow laughed again and Ichigo narrowed his eyes, anger quick to replace everything else as he snarled. “It’s just because of the fight, you asshole! It happens sometimes!”

“Che. Whatever makes you feel better. Now shut up; I ain’t interested in talking.”

And Grimmjow was kissing him again, hard and rough and his tongue was in Ichigo’s mouth, hands sliding down Ichigo’s sides as the force and weight of his body held Ichigo trapped against the wall.

He tried to fight, tried to push Grimmjow away, kick at him, bite again, but he had no leverage and his struggles, and especially his biting, just drew groans of pleasure and harder, deeper kisses. Then hands were on his ass and Ichigo protested, cursed, muffled against Grimmjow’s mouth. Ignoring him, Grimmjow lifted him up, Ichigo’s back sliding roughly against the wall, skin scraping on brick where his kimono had been torn and sliced during the fight. He ended up at eye level with Grimmjow, height difference suddenly gone as Grimmjow held him there, fingers digging into his ass, groin pressed tight against his.

“Better,” Grimmjow muttered against his lips.

Ichigo grabbed hold of Grimmjow’s shoulders instinctively when his feet left the ground, and it was the same instinct that drove him to wrap a leg around Grimmjow’s hips. He didn’t even have time to think about what he’d done before Grimmjow was kissing him again and - oh hell, was he in trouble; Grimmjow _moved_.

Layers of clothing separated them but it didn’t matter; Ichigo could feel it all too clearly when Grimmjow pushed against him. A hard thrust that rubbed their cocks together, made Grimmjow give a rumble of pleasure, scattered every thought in Ichigo’s mind.

Rolling thrusts of his hips, quickly becoming a steady, driving rhythm that Ichigo couldn’t help but fall into. Grimmjow was still kissing him, all but devouring his mouth, and Ichigo let him, couldn’t do much of anything but let his head fall back against the wall, let Grimmjow kiss him and grab him and just take him, because all he could think-the only thing he could wrap what was left of his mind around, was the incredible feel of Grimmjow thrusting against him.

He’d never been this hard. Never felt so hot, like his body was slowly beginning to burn, to set itself aflame from his cock outward. He’d jerked off, of course, and it was always more intense after a battle, but never like this. He’d never had the feeling of another body against him, pushing at him and demanding a response. Never had another man’s cock pressing against his, rubbing and thrusting and even if he could feel it through their hakama, could feel that Grimmjow was only slightly longer than him but so much thicker, he suddenly wanted nothing in the way.

Somehow he managed to get one hand to work, managed to unclench his white-knuckled grip in Grimmjow’s shirt and shove it down between them. He grabbed at his obi, tried to pull it loose, yanked in vain and something resembling a whimper of desperation escaped him, audible even with Grimmjow’s mouth over his.

“Yeah.” Suddenly Grimmjow’s mouth slid away from his, across his jawline to his neck.

The movement didn’t stop, seemed to speed up, in fact, rubbing harder and drawing a deep moan from Ichigo. He barely noticed when Grimmjow’s hand left his ass, but he groaned in relief when that hand hooked into both his obi and the top of his hakama and ripped both. The constriction on his cock fell away with the material and a moment later, another harsh ripping sound, and Ichigo cried out at the feel of skin against skin. Hot and hard and both of them sticky with pre-come. Ichigo closed his eyes, biting down on his lower lip as Grimmjow grabbed hold of his thigh and _shoved_ forward.

Thrusting again and again, harder and faster and it was all so _hot_ between them, inside him, and Ichigo heard loud grunts and gasps around them, knew they couldn’t be Grimmjow’s because lips were on his throat, teeth digging into his skin. He didn’t care. Didn’t care how he sounded, didn’t care what marks Grimmjow left on him; he only cared about the growing tightness in his groin, the feel of pleasure racing through him and building, pushing so fast and high that it had to give. He couldn’t take much more; it was too intense. Grimmjow’s breath on him, his tongue rough and wet as he licked up the side of Ichigo’s neck, his cock so thick and burning against Ichigo’s, rubbing, thrusting, pushing and-

“Come.” An order, growled into Ichigo’s ear and fast accompanied by teeth digging into the skin right below.

The bite - pain shooting down his neck, through him and it was impossible to tell pain from pleasure and Ichigo _screamed_. His eyes flew open though he saw next to nothing, just white shot through with red and black as his whole body convulsed against Grimmjow, his cock jerking, come shooting up between them. He only had the vaguest awareness of Grimmjow stiffening against him, an animalistic roar close to his ear, but it seemed so far away. Every bit of his concentration was focused on the release thrumming through his body, snapping him taut as a bowstring before letting him go to sink back against the wall, arms dropping limply to his sides, utterly exhausted.

Grimmjow was gasping in his ear, his body, still pressing Ichigo into the wall, still supporting him, was trembling. Ichigo wasn’t all that steady himself; he suspected that if he’d tried to stand he would’ve ended up on the ground. So he let Grimmjow hold him, for just a little bit longer.

It was Grimmjow who finally moved, finally spoke some unknown time later when they’d stopped shaking and breathing wasn’t as hard to manage.

“Not bad, Shinigami.” He pulled back enough to look Ichigo in the eyes. “But next time I want your ass.” He squeezed hard and Ichigo hissed, wishing it was pain and not a stab of want that went through him.

Laughing, Grimmjow let him go. Just released him and stepped back. Ichigo had just enough presence of mind to unhook his leg from Grimmjow’s waist and get both feet down before he fell.

Grimmjow hooked a foot under Pantera’s hilt and kicked upwards, catching his sword mid-flight. Reaching to the side with one hand, he ripped open a Garganta, his eyes never leaving Ichigo.

“See ya next time.” His smirk was wide and the look he gave Ichigo utterly lewd before he stepped into the Garganta and it sealed behind him.

“Fuck you,” Ichigo said to the air, letting his head thump back against the wall with a groan.

His body was still tingling in ways he’d never imagined, aftershocks drawing soft moans from him as he slumped there, heart still pounding. He was a come-covered, sweaty mess; his hakama was a shredded ruin and covered next to nothing. If he was very lucky, he might be able to fashion something out of what was left of the legs, maybe a make-shift fundoshi, but that wouldn’t lessen the embarrassment he’d go through if anyone saw him. Bad enough he’d have to face Kon when he crept back into his room; if Renji or Rukia saw him.... Ichigo winced, shuddering at the thought of not just the humiliation of them seeing him, but trying to explain just how he’d ended up like this. Although, the how was at least straight forward enough, it was the why of it all that still got to him.

He’d just had sex with Grimmjow. How? Easy: Grimmjow was a son of a bitch and Ichigo was obviously an idiot. Why? Hell if he knew. Why hadn’t he punched out the crazy bastard; why had he stopped struggling; why had he gone along with it; why had he enjoyed it? But most of all, why did he want to do it again?

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> This has to be the first real PWP I’ve managed to write since the year I first entered fandom. It’s hardly the first Grimmjow and Ichigo in an alley fic, but I have to write when the inspiration strikes. Besides, the image of Grimmjow shoving Ichigo up against a wall and _taking_ what he wants kind of shuts down my brain.


End file.
